The Skin You're In
by Nasturtian
Summary: How close is TOO close? The Johns conduct and experiement to find out.


Author's Note: Not sure if this really deserves the "T" rating - I guess it depends on how far and how fast your imagination goes with innuendo. Better safe than sorry, right?

 _..._

 _Starecross_

 _June 1823_

"It's a shame about skin," said Segundus.

"That is one of the stranger things you've ever said to me. Especially considering that neither of us is wearing anything but our skin right now."

Segundus chuckled and rolled onto his side so that he could look at Childermass properly. "Nothing is wrong with it in principle, my dear. It's merely that when we're - you know - in the midst, as it were - I find myself...dissatisfied - "

Childermass propped himself up on one elbow, scowling. "Now wait just one moment, John - "

"Don't look so upset! Hush and let me finish my sentence. I find myself dissatisfied with my inability to get...closer to you."

"I'm fairly certain we have gotten as close as it is physically possible to get. Barring one of us chewing up and ingesting the other."

"Exactly!" said Segundus. "I'm not saying I want to eat you, John - yes, ha, very funny, you know what I meant! - but sometimes I want more closeness. To just...disappear into you entirely. And our skin - " he ran his fingers down his bedfellow's flank, making him snort and pull the covers up - "gets in the way of that."

Childermass lay back, his arms behind his head, and studied the ceiling. Segundus caught the speculative gleam in his eye.

"What are you plotting, John Childermass?"

"I'm thinking about...dissolution spells."

Segundus clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh no, not again! You know what happened the last time we tried to mix magic and - and - "

"And manhood?" suggested Childermass, sniggering.

"Yes, exactly," said Segundus, hitting him with a pillow.

"I thought it was an enormous success."

"You would, seeing as you were the one who went around looking like you had a third leg for half an hour."

"Only because you were laughing too hard to help me find the counter-spell."

Presently they got out of bed, donned their smallclothes, and began the experiment.

"I've only ever used dissolution spells on mirrors," said Childermass, "Never on anything living."

"Me neither. How do you want to go about it?"

"Let's start with a plant."

They soon determined that a dissolution spell did not make a potted geranium die, but allowed the spell-caster to pass his hand through it with only a faint feeling of going through spiderwebs.

Segundus flatly refused to allow any experimentation on Merlin, his tame raven, so he and Childermass ran tests on each other instead. Their discoveries, recorded neatly in a notebook, ran as follows:

 _1\. John Segundus (henceforth JS) put Dissolution Spell (henceforth DS) on John Childermass (henceforth JC). JS put a hand through JC's shoulder. JS said it felt like touching water. JC said he felt nothing whatsoever. JS lifted DS from JC._

 _2\. JC put DS on JS. Put hand through JS's leg and agreed that it felt like liquid. JS felt nothing._

 _3\. Theorizing that results might differ if the DS is on both parties at once, JC and JS agreed to put spell on each other._

"Well, I'm not going to just...jump into you," said Segundus. "And I don't think you should either. What if we can't get out again?"

Childermass raised his right hand. "Little by little does the trick."

Muttering something about _who are you calling a trick_ , Segundus held up a hand in response.

They touched fingers.

Or at least, they tried to. Instead of bumping together, their hands passed through each other as though made of mist. Segundus had been expecting this, but he had not been expecting the sensation that accompanied it. It was something like the tingling of pins-and-needles that came from sitting in one position for too long, and something like a sneeze, and something like the cool burning of peppermint. From the way Childermass's eyebrows rose towards his hairline, he felt it too.

"Fascinating," said Segundus, reaching out again. This time they kept their hands steady, so that they remained superimposed within the same space. The tingle/sneeze/burn feelings intensified until, unable to bear it any longer, they wrenched apart simultaneously.

"It looks all right," said Childermass, examining his hand. "See what happens if you remove the spell." Segundus did so, then watched as Childermass tried to pick up a book. It worked. "Good. Not permanent."

"That's a relief," said Segundus, after having his own enchantment undone and ascertaining that his body was obeying the laws of physics once more. "Er - what did that feel like to you?"

"Like I had a swarm of small, cold bees under my skin. Very odd but not altogether unpleasant. How about you?"

"Much the same."

"Care to try it again?"

"God, yes."

They re-cast the spell. "Let us hope nothing goes wrong," said Segundus. "It would be difficult to explain how we got trapped inside each other, should we require rescue."

"It'll be fine, John. Come here," said Childermass, holding out his arms. Segundus stepped into them gingerly.

"Oh," he gasped, as his limbs and torso melted into the other man. "That's - that is - " _freezing electric hair-raising I'm dying don't stop_ " - rather intense - "

Childermass groaned and bent to kiss him, apparently forgetting that in the present circumstances this would not work. Segundus had a split-second and terrifying glimpse of Childermass's face pushing through his own. Then his vision was consumed by a flare of white light.

...

Later, when they had recovered the power of speech and were back in separate bodies, Segundus said: "Are you all right?"

"I believe so. Hold on - let's get rid of this spell."

A pause.

"There, mine's off. You?"

"All clear."

They helped each other up off the floor and sat on the edge of Segundus's bed.

"So..."

"So."

"Do you feel as though a hurricane made of the undiluted brilliance of the sun was poured through the top of your head?"

"More or less."

Another pause. Then Childermass said:

"I wonder if this is what Shakespeare was thinking of when he wrote _Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments_?"

Segundus laughed. "Somehow, I think he was speaking metaphorically."

"It fits, though, doesn't it?"

"It does."

"A successful experiment, as far as it goes. Though I doubt we shall be publishing our results in The Friends of English Magic."


End file.
